Monday, May 21, 2012

Pratt's Story

Snug as a bug in a rug huh! I’m not feeling so snug right now! My people went out and got a bird! A Bird!! What do they go and want a bird for? Nasty smelly things. “Oh he’s so cute! We can name him Timothy!”
Come here Timothy—Have some corn!” “Come over here Timothy, I made a cute little nest for you!” Just look at both of them trying to win his favor. It’s disgusting! They never did that for me. Little do they know the terror they’re in for. Ducks grow up.
Maybe!, Maybe I can talk the cat into doing a fowl deed.
My name is Pratt and this is my home. My family has lived here for generations. We used to hold concerts on warm summer evenings, the breeze blowing over the prairie brought the scent of ripening barley grown for market. A horse whinnying in the next block sang along. Neighborhood dogs took up the melody—and Grayson the hound yodeled the base notes. It’s amazing how noisy a quiet neighborhood can be.
But that was then and now is now and I’m stuck with a duck named Tim.

I liked having the old folks around. Beanie was quiet and hardly noticed me. Gramps just smiled and enjoyed the concert. Mousy used to come out of hiding to watch TV with him. Her favorite was  “The Mickey Mouse Club.” I preferred Pinocchio. But we were definitely three cartoon-loving guys. I miss them. They’re gone now and I have to be careful where I show up. The new folks, the kids ,watch the food channel. Humm! Timothy Flambé has a nice sound.  Maybe I can hold off for a while. If I live that long, I thought. Timothy has been stalking me. This is nothing new. Maya use to do that but now she’s decided to stalk Tim. I’m grateful. Maya was too quiet and almost got me a few times. Lucky for me I know a few hiding places. My cousins and I found them between the hearth bricks before their untimely end. I told them the flames were too high but Shadrack and Meshach were afraid of the cat.

I crawled from under the black and blue quilt where I had been hiding. It’s my favorite place on the couch. It blends so nicely with my natural coloring.  I’m warm, and safely hidden unless someone decides to sit on me. I’ve been nearly squished several times by all the animals’ wandering around this old house. But usually, they rush around blindly and noisily without caring in the least that I was sleeping. They seem only to care about themselves.
I remember the first day the kids brought that ugly bird home. He stood there on the carpet, his beady black eyes glaring down at me, a nasty smirk on his crooked little bill. I could hear him thinking, “Just wait. I rule this roost now, and you are going to go. Heh Heh Heh! I coward in fear and shame.

But I was there to watch his downfall. They tossed him in a tub of water. SQUAK!” he screamed. I could hear the fear in his voice. They were trying to drown him. I perched on my seat ready and waiting. Then he found out he could float. Dang. Foiled again. Now he just looks cute.

This morning I had a new idea. I knew how to take care of Timothy for good. I will drive him insane. I whispered in the boys ear while he was sleeping. “You should call him Henry. Henry is a kingly name for a prince of a duck. He can sit on your shoulder and rule the castle from on high.”
Tonight I will send little messages to the girl. “Timothy, so cute! So sweet! Timothy belongs to you. He’s a girl’s best friend.” 

 I will create discord and confusion. Imagine the duck. Wandering around, Timothy! Henry! Who am I? We can watch him on Dr. Phil, a sad confused duck who doesn’t know where he belongs, who or what he is, the perfect paranoid.

The sun is going down and the stars beginning to twinkle in the dusk. A wild feeling of compulsion is coming over me threatening, overwhelming. I can’t help it I must go  to the rain dampened porch and play.  I raise my leg to the instrument and sing. In the distance I can hear the neighborhood come to life. Just like old times, the music fills the neighborhood. I am lost in the joy and the memories. I don’t notice the stealthy opening of the screen, the quiet clumping of webbed feet.  The horror of the ugly flat bill stretched in his wicked smile descending over my head……..

No comments: